Latest from The Guardian


The Guardian
30 minutes ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Add to playlist: the year's best electronic debut from Sheffield's NZO, plus the week's best tracks
From Sheffield, via LeedsRecommended if you like Mark Fell, Jlin, Beatrice DillonUp next Live set at No Bounds festival in October It's thrilling and satisfying when an artist's debut album is so fully realised: as if they have their own hyperlocal dialect, and are saying something genuinely new with it. So it is with NZO, a mysterious Sheffield-based electronic artist whose album Come Alive is a defibrillating jolt of vitality. You can find affinities with other artists and styles here, for sure: the bookish but playful minimalism of another Sheffield musician, Mark Fell; Objekt's trickster vision for bass music and techno; the white-tiled cleanliness of some of Sophie's work; Jlin's paradoxically static funk. But the way it's all pulled together is totally NZO's, making for music that's so light on its feet despite its incredible complexity. After a brief intro piece, main opener Rolling Around has all the hallmarks of dubstep but it's as if a slight glitch is holding it back from a deep skanking rhythm. The little ripples of conga on AXMM, or the synthetic brass fanfares of Something's Changed, are sounds you often hear in Chicago footwork music – probably deliberate homages, yet the actual productions are totally different, the former fidgeting, the latter bumping. Her use of vocals is excellent, too, from the very quotable house-style command 'won't stop dancing til the DJ drops' on CFML, to faraway dream-pop singing on Something's Changed. There's more on half-stepping closer Looking For ': the kind of poignant snatch of pop that Burial reaches for, but rather than being cloaked in static, this lost transmission comes through with devastating clarity. This album is cute yet serious, danceable yet cerebral – very few people are operating at this level in British electronic music anywhere, much less with their debut. Blood Orange – The FieldA fever dream of collaborators join Dev Hynes' romantic return: the Durutti Column's guitar blur meets Eva Tolkin's racing production, Tariq Al-Sabir's composition and vocals from Caroline Polachek and Daniel Caesar. LS The Beths – No Joy'I don't feel sad, I feel nothing,' Liz Stokes rues on a classic Beths track: kinetic powerpop that blasts her melancholy – about the new numbness of life on antidepressants – with sunshine. LS Jonathan Richman – I Was Just a Piece of Frozen Sky Anyway 'Will I make my change?' the Modern Lover asks his mother on what might be a gnomic nod to mortality, as Spanish guitar does a brisk dance with a lovely, fluted whistle. [Not on Spotify: listen at Bandcamp.] LS Black Sites – C4Producers Helena Hauff and F#X unite as Black Sites, their debut LP led by this impressively insidious techno slither – one that feels as though it's hypnotising you into a particularly dark place. LS Case Oats – In a BungalowSomewhere between Kathleen Edwards' open-hearted country and Kimya Dawson's lovely naivete, Chicago's Casey Walker – and nimble, fiddle-accented band – belies the pressing nature of a crush with an enticing lightness of touch. LS Orcutt Shelley Miller – A Star Is BornGuitarists Bill Orcutt and Ethan Miller (Comets on Fire) blaze up the joint while former Sonic Youth drummer Steve Shelley plays it cool, steering them towards a surprisingly chill landing. LS Silvana Estrada – Lila AlelíThe Mexican songwriter essays the pain of longing in capital-R romantic terms, although her radiant delivery and some jaunty horns suggest that there's no small amount of pleasure in this purgatory. LS Subscribe to the Guardian's rolling Add to Playlist selections on Spotify.


The Guardian
33 minutes ago
- Politics
- The Guardian
US says Haitians can be deported – days after ruling Haiti unsafe for Americans
More than half a million Haitians are facing the prospect of deportation from the US after the Trump administration announced that the Caribbean country's citizens would no longer be afforded shelter under a government program created to protect the victims of major natural disasters or conflicts. Haiti has been engulfed by a wave of deadly violence since the 2021 murder of its president, Jovenel Moïse. Heavily armed gangs have brought chaos to its capital, Port-au-Prince, since launching an insurrection that toppled the prime minister last year. On Tuesday, the US embassy in Haiti urged US citizens to abandon the violence-stricken Caribbean country. 'Depart Haiti as soon as possible,' it wrote on X. But less than 72 hours later, on Friday afternoon, the Department for Homeland Security – which is at the heart of Donald Trump's hardline migration crackdown - said it believed it was 'safe for Haitian citizens to return home' and announced their protections were being withdrawn. 'The environmental situation in Haiti has improved enough that it is safe for Haitian citizens to return home,' a DHS spokesperson claimed as it was announced that an estimated 521,000 Haitians would be stripped of their 'temporary protected status' (TPS) on 2 September this year. 'This decision restores integrity in our immigration system and ensures that temporary protective status is actually temporary,' the spokesperson said. The decision sparked an immediate outcry. Tessa Petit, the executive director of the Florida Immigrant Coalition and a Haitian immigrant, told Newsweek: 'I'm still in shock, but I'm totally disgusted. This is a complete lie stating that the situation in Haiti has improved enough that it is safe for Haitian citizens to return home. This is a lie.' The TPS program was created by US lawmakers in 1990 and was initially used to offer protection to those fleeing El Salvador's 12-year civil war during which more than 75,000 people were killed. Since then it has been used to offer shelter to citizens of countries such as Afghanistan, Somalia, Ukraine and Venezuela. Haitians were first offered TPS status after the 7.0 magnitude earthquake that devastated Port-au-Prince in 2010, claiming tens of thousands of lives. It is unclear how the DHS reached its conclusion that Haiti was now 'safe'. Experts say more than 80% of the capital has been commandeered by violent, politically connected gangs in recent years, with the gang-controlled roads in and out of Port-au-Prince now considered too dangerous to travel. International carriers including American Airlines stopped flying into the city's airport after several flights came under fire in late 2024. The US state department describes Haiti as a 'level four' destination which citizens are advised not to visit 'due to kidnapping, crime, civil unrest, and limited health care'. Its website warns: 'Crimes involving firearms are common in Haiti. They include robbery, carjackings, sexual assault, and kidnappings for ransom. Kidnapping is widespread, and US citizens have been victims and have been hurt or killed … Mob killings and assaults by the public have increased, including targeting those suspected of committing crimes.' The UK Foreign Office also warns against all travel to Haiti because of the 'unpredictable' security situation and the threat of kidnapping and gang violence. 'Road travel is highly dangerous. Armed carjacking is common and criminal groups often use improvised road blocks to extort or kidnap motorists,' it says.


The Guardian
39 minutes ago
- The Guardian
Colorado funeral home owner sentenced to 20 years for cheating customers and government
A Colorado funeral home owner who stashed nearly 190 dead bodies in a decrepit building and sent grieving families fake ashes was sentenced to 20 years in prison in federal court on Friday for cheating customers and defrauding the federal government out of nearly $900,000 in Covid-19 aid. Jon Hallford, the owner of Return to Nature funeral home, pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit wire fraud last year and had faced a maximum of 20 years in prison. Federal prosecutors are seeking a 15-year sentence and Hallford's attorney asked for 10 years. In court before the sentencing, Hallford told the judge that he opened Return to Nature to make a positive impact in people's lives, 'then everything got completely out of control, especially me.' 'I am so deeply sorry for my actions,' he said. 'I still hate myself for what I've done.' Hallford will be sentenced in August in a separate state case in which he pleaded guilty to 191 counts of corpse abuse. Hallford and co-owner Carie Hallford were accused of storing the bodies between 2019 and 2023 and sending families fake ashes. Investigators described finding the bodies in 2023 stacked atop each other throughout a squat, bug-infested building in Penrose, a small town about a two-hour drive south of Denver. The morbid discovery revealed to many families that their loved ones weren't cremated and that the ashes they had spread or cherished were fake. In two cases, the wrong body was buried, according to court documents. Many families said it undid their grieving processes. Some relatives had nightmares, others have struggled with guilt, and at least one wondered about their loved one's soul. Among the victims who spoke during Friday's sentencing was a boy named Colton Sperry. With his head poking just above the lectern, he told the judge about his grandmother, who Sperry said was a second mother to him and died in 2019. Her body languished inside the Return to Nature building for four years until the discovery, which plunged Sperry into depression. He said he told his parents at the time, 'if I die too, I could meet my grandma in heaven and talk to her again.' His parents brought him to the hospital for a mental health check, which led to therapy and an emotional support dog. 'I miss my grandma so much,' he told the judge through tears. Federal prosecutors accused both Hallfords of pandemic aid fraud, siphoning the aid and spending it and customer's payments on a GMC Yukon and Infiniti worth more than $120,000 combined, along with $31,000 in cryptocurrency, luxury items from stores such as Gucci and Tiffany & Co, and even laser body sculpting. Derrick Johnson told the judge that he travelled 3,000 miles (4,800km) to testify over how his his mother was 'thrown into a festering sea of death'. 'I lie awake wondering: was she naked? Was she stacked on top of others like lumber?' said Johnson. 'While the bodies rotted in secret, [the Hallfords] lived, they laughed and they dined,' he added. 'My moms cremation money likely helped pay for a cocktail, a day at the spa, a first-class flight.' Hallford's attorney, Laura H Suelau, asked for a lower sentence of 10 years in the hearing on Friday, saying that Hallford 'knows he was wrong, he admitted he was wrong' and hasn't offered an excuse. His sentencing in the state case is scheduled in August. Asking for a 15-year sentence for Hallford, assistant US attorney Tim Neff described the scene inside the building. Investigators couldn't move into some rooms because the bodies were piled so high and in various states of decay. FBI agents had to put boards down so they could walk above the fluid, which was later pumped out. Carie Hallford is scheduled to go to trial in the federal case in September, the same month as her next hearing in the state case in which she is also charged with 191 counts of corpse abuse.


The Guardian
40 minutes ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Dior Paris show is sweet relief for anyone wanting to flex a cooler muscle
Even Anna Wintour can only be in one place at a time. And rather than Paris, where Jonathan Anderson made his Dior debut on Friday, the most powerful person in fashion was in Venice for the Bezos/Sánchez wedding shortly after relinquishing her role as editor-in-chief at American Vogue. But unlike the wedding of the year, Anderson's show proved to be sweet relief for anyone wanting to flex a cooler, chicer muscle. Perched on wooden cubes within the Cour du Dôme des Invalides sat plenty of VIP clout: Daniel Craig, Donatella Versace and Roger Federer. Most of the Arnault family, who own Dior and routinely joust with Jeff Bezos over who has more money, were present. Even Rihanna, pregnant in a Dior pastel waistcoat, was relatively punctual. Anderson is known for his sharp eye and crafty, mercurial taste – few people have shaped the red carpet and ultimately the high street into the hype machine it is today. But Dior is a different challenge. As the first creative director of menswear and womenswear since Christian Dior himself, the designer needs to revamp LVMH's second biggest brand, with estimated revenues far greater than at his former label, Loewe. 'I can't stand here and say I'm not nervous, that it is not petrifying,' he said backstage before the show, wearing his trademark Levi's and a plaid Dior shirt. 'Dior is on billboards. It's on Rihanna. It's transcendent. But this is the starting point – I've been here four months, and the first five shows will show different aspects. Some will contradict; others will be completely radical.' Some designers get critical acclaim, others sell a lot of clothes – a rare few have a talent to do both, but that's the hope with Anderson. Because of tariff wars and a decline in the luxury market, LVMH shares have halved from their 2023 peak. 'Delphine [Arnault] and I, we talked about changing the quality, about upping the game,' Anderson said. Opening the show was a bar jacket in Donegal tweed. More interested in how a look is put together than the clothes themselves, Anderson styled it with a pair of thick cream cargo shorts cut from 15 metres of fabric and layered up like a Viennetta. Knitted vests were a through line, as were ties and neck ruffles, and plenty of colour – greens, pinks and blues. Dior, he says, is a house of colour, in part because it offsets the 'house grey' that features on billboards, Dior clothes labels he redesigned and the Parisian sky. A puffer gilet was circularly cut and placed over a formal shirt, while summer coats and capes came knitted or in pleated bright colours. One was even based on an original Dior shape 'that would have cost the equivalent of a Ferrari', except here it was styled with trainers. There were even jeans – skinny and baggy, in indigo and green. The look was preppy and eccentric, with shades of Loewe, JW Anderson, and even Uniqlo in the puffers, among the classic Dior shapes. On Anderson's original moodboard were Warholian images of the artist Jean-Michel Basquiat and the socialite Lee Radziwill, alongside classic Dior dresses such as the Delft and Cigale. The idea was to take each look into the present, 'to recontextualise it', he said. He even took his predecessor Maria Grazia Chiuri's book bag totes and put a 'new skin' on them, in the form of Dracula and Les Liaisons Dangereuses. It's these hyperspecific references that give Anderson's work a pleasing temporality, and will no doubt sell well – here at Dior, and whatever high street shop will no doubt copy him. Sign up to Fashion Statement Style, with substance: what's really trending this week, a roundup of the best fashion journalism and your wardrobe dilemmas solved after newsletter promotion Anderson is the latest big name to arrive at an established brand. 'I'm not the only person going into a big house at the moment, but we need to let the dust settle,' he said, adding that he didn't 'want to chop it all down. It's just a continuation.' A great believer in the Jim Jarmusch approach to art – steal, adapt, borrow – he said: 'Ownership in fashion is devastating. Copy [in design] is what you do. Because there will always be someone after you.'


The Guardian
an hour ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Experience: I won a Timothée Chalamet lookalike contest
When I first saw the flyer for the Timothée Chalamet lookalike contest last October, I thought it was a joke. Lookalike contests were not mainstream yet. It was also taking place in New York's Washington Square Park – a place I usually associate with chaos. But last year a TikTok of me at a London barbershop went viral before because people thought I resembled Timothée. So, a day before the contest, I headed to a charity shop and picked out an outfit that made me look like Timothée's Willy Wonka. Why not? I was shocked by the size of the crowd on the day. There were thousands there and I was swarmed by people wanting photos. Before the contest even began, the police had arrived to shut it down. We relocated to a nearby park. It was later announced that Timothée had crashed the contest but left when the cops arrived. I missed his visit entirely. Once the contest began, we were asked to complete a series of activities, including a bizarre Timothée-themed Q&A. Eventually, they narrowed down the contestants to me and a lookalike named Zander, who was dressed in a Dune-inspired outfit. Whoever got the loudest cheer would win. At that point, I was pretty calm. I thought Zander had a good shot of winning, too, as he looked a lot like Timothée. After they announced I'd won, hundreds of cameras went off in front of me. The sensory overload was next level. The reporters were aggressively fighting over who would speak to me first. To top it all, I had to walk around Manhattan carrying a 6ft trophy and a massive $50 cheque. I was invited on famous talkshows, like The Drew Barrymore Show, and fast-food companies reached out to me to film sponsored content. A highlight was attending this year's Golden Globes. I was with my mum when I received my invitation, via Instagram DM from CBS, which was broadcasting the event. My mum and I both lost it. This would be my second interaction with Timothée, as I had already met him at a screening of the film A Complete Unknown, which I was also invited to. I had been lucky enough to sit in the front row and when Timothée came out to greet the crowd, I said: 'I kind of look like you.' I did not mention the lookalike contest, but he turned to me and asked: 'What place did you get?' After I told him, he asked for a photo with me. You'd think it would be the other way round. Before the Golden Globes, CBS flew me out to LA. On landing, I went out for a breakfast burrito, and the waiter told me I looked like Timothée. He was so stunned to learn I was there for winning the lookalike contest that he gave me my meal for free. At the Globes, I walked the red carpet with the winner of the Glen Powell lookalike contest. We stood there for three hours, holding signs that read: 'I won a lookalike contest and now I'm at the Golden Globes.' We spent most of the time looking at each other in disbelief, surrounded by the world's most famous celebrities. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion I thought meeting Timothée was off the cards. But just before the ceremony kicked off, he dashed through the red carpet. He stopped to acknowledge me – something he wasn't doing for anyone else. For a second time, he asked for a picture. I was grateful as he didn't have to do that. I watched the ceremony from the trophy engraving room. I took full advantage of the unlimited food and drink, and ate about 30 lamb chops. The voice actor for Moana came up and said, 'Oh my god, you won the lookalike contest! Fuck, yeah, you did!' But I didn't recognise many people who approached me for pictures. The CBS team had to tell me who they were. I'd just think: 'Wow, that's insane.' It was hands-down the best night of my life. Later, Saturday Night Live asked me to feature me in a promo for a show Timothée was hosting, but I was in Europe and couldn't make the 12-hour turnaround. They cast someone else who wasn't even at the contest. I was disappointed, of course, but that's how this industry works. I'm optimistic about future opportunities, but even if that was the peak, I'm still grateful for all the cool things I got to do. As told to Maria Vieira Do you have an experience to share? Email experience@